


Nobody's Ever Going To Want Me

by FanFicReader01



Series: Crazyverse [5]
Category: Poets of the Fall
Genre: Blood, Oneshot, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Director - Freeform, crazyverse, short appearance of marko
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:08:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: Inspired by another Giles Corey song: Nobody's Ever Going To Want Me.This story features some events that happened prior to Crazy Crazy Crazy!





	Nobody's Ever Going To Want Me

_I'm armed to the teeth_

_Like a fucking animal_

 

Olli knows what he is capable of. He knows he is powerful.

He is in control for a large part.

After all, he is _the S_ on of the Director, the man who runs this Circus and this Freakshow.

Olli only has to say the word, and people die.

He only has to give one command and people get punished, get hurt, get killed.

It’s _that_ easy but Olli wants none of it. He doesn’t want that kind of power. He doesn’t deserve it.

_I ruin everything_

_I get my bony hands on_

 

This. This massacre. It wasn’t supposed to happen. This was _not_ what Olli wanted.

Olli didn’t want those people to die, to get them executed.

But poor Olli was still young and unexperienced and he didn’t think the consequences through. All he wanted was to give the Different Ones an escape from the harsh life they led in this “Circus”.

He didn’t expect their “escape” would lie in their death. How painfully ironic.

 

Olli didn’t predict the sudden guards to get alerted. He didn’t predict they were ordered to shoot every escaped “Freak” on sight.

He tried to stop them, but the angry guards waltzed over him like he wasn’t even there.

Soon Olli’s vision got blurred by the countless tears that streamed down his face.

He should have never tried to free the Odd Ones. Now they died and it could’ve been avoided if he wasn’t too ambitious with his oh so “amazing escape plan”. It wasn’t a fleshed out plan and now Olli has to walk through a field of body bags.

He is responsible for this hell.

 

‘Help me carry those bodies to the balefire’, the Director demands in the aftermath of the massacre.

 

Olli wonders if he ever gets rid of the smell of the burning flesh. The answer is probably a harsh “no”.

 

_And here we go, now_

_Over the bridge of sighs_

_We will get a cross like Christ, crucified_

_It's like a birth but it is in reverse_

_Never gets better, always gets worse_

 

Olli wonders how much pain one person can endure. How much physical pain. How much mental pain.

Every day he witnesses how the limits of the human body and mind get tested by the very thing he is part of: Circus Crazie.

Not only the Different Ones are suffering. Olli himself is too.

He feels like he can’t share his pain with others. Some Different Ones hate him and they have every reason, Olli thinks.

The Different Ones have each other during the night. Olli, however, is all by himself.  He can’t go to the other “Normal Ones”. They don’t care about the people they dub “Freaks”.

They don’t care about Olli’s thoughts, his feelings or anything like that. The only thing they see is money and they do everything within their power to keep the business running. Even if that means abandoning their own humanity.           

_And here we go, now_

_(Step one, step two)_

 

Olli bets his loneliness will suffocate him one day but he needs to end that before it can get to him.

The unspoken truth of his sadness crushes his lungs and he wants to get rid of it.

He has no choice or it will drive him mad. He can’t let that happen. He can’t lose his sanity.

 

He sits in his trailer, numbed, stunned.

He throws a quick glimpse at the mirror. Almost like a ragdoll he stands up and walks over to it.

Although he stares into the mirror, he isn’t really _looking_. He doesn’t need to be reminded he is the son of the Director.

 

A wave of anger rushes over the young man and he slams his fist against the mirror.

Again and again until it breaks. Shattered pieces lay all around him.

The broken pieces looks so sharp. Sharp enough to cut through skin.

 

An idea is born.

 

Olli has found a way to end it all. He sinks down to the floor and gathers a few pieces.

Of course, his fingers get cut in the process.

Okay, Olli, this might hurt but the pain will be temporary. When you go beyond the pain, a peaceful nothingness should await you.

You can do this.

No more pain. No more suffering.

_Over the bridge of sighs_

_(Step three, step four)_

The sharp piece brushes experimentally over the man’s throat. Only a slight cut draws some droplets of blood. Nothing more.

Olli hisses.

 

_We will get a cross like Christ, crucified_

_(We fall through the floor)_

_It's like a birth but it is in reverse_

_(Fall through the floor)_

 

A bit more pressure this time. Yet, the cut isn’t deep enough to produce a lot of blood loss.

 

_Never gets better, always gets worse_

_(Fall through the floor)_

 

Olli closes his eyes, grunts and pulls the “knife” away. He damns himself for being so cowardice.

He can’t even take his own life properly.

Enraged he dugs the sharp piece of broken mirror against his hand until he feels the itching pain.

 He dares a look in the remaining mirror.

His face is pale. Dark bags are seen underneath his eyes. He looks tired and sick and sad.

 

_One, two, fuck you!_

 

‘I’ll try again’, Olli mutters to himself. He puts the sharp edge to his throat, hopefully for the last time.

He squeezes his eyes shut, grits his teeth and braces himself for the pain that will come soon.

His hand trembles heavily as he adds pressure to the piece.

 

Good, the beginning of a cut.

 

Uncontrollable tears start rolling out of Olli’s exhausted eyes. From left to right, a clean cut.

Or so it should happen.

Olli’s hand moves slightly. The small cut makes him bleed a little more than the first try. It hurts already.

 

Someone shouts his name. Before Olli knows who has entered his trailer without permission, the dangerous object gets smashed out of his hand and someone wraps his arms around his body and drags him away from the broken mirror until Olli finds himself on his bed and on the lap of the stranger.

 Still in a daze of everything, the young man looks at the hands that rest on his chest.

The fingernails are painted a deep red. It matches the blood that comes out of his own neck.

 ‘Marko’, Olli murmurs absently.

‘Don’t you dare to try something stupid like that ever again!’, the man behind him growls but the supposed anger only covers his great worry.

 ‘How… How did you know I was going to-’, Olli wants to know.

‘That doesn’t matter. What matters now, is that you get to see the doctor. And that you stay alive. Please, Olli. We, _I_ , can’t lose you. The Freaks here need you!’, the older man replies. He sounds desperate.

 ‘But it hurts. It hurts so much, Marko.’

_I want to feel like I feel when I'm asleep_

_I wanna feel_

_I want to feel like I feel when I'm asleep_

_Sleep!_

 

After Olli’s neck and hand get treated by a doctor, the young man retreats to his trailer.

 ‘Saaresto. You’re still here?’

‘Of course. Your father-’

Olli cuts him off: ‘Don’t call him like that.’

‘Well, the Director told me I should look after his foolish son’, Saaresto explains his company.

‘Don’t. This foolish guy’s going to sleep now. He’ll need it. So don’t worry about me’, Olli grunts agitated. He ignores the other man’s presence and crawls into his bed.

Maybe he will have a dreamless night for once.

**Author's Note:**

> It didn't really come out as i wanted it to be, but now this oneshot's finally finished :')
> 
> I left some lyrics because they didn't fit the thing i wanted to write.
> 
> sorry olli ><


End file.
